


The Wrath of a Witch

by Mya_Stone



Series: Asa's Journey [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Elemental Magic, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Happy Ending, Mystery, Sleep Paralysis, Spooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 10:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20173078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mya_Stone/pseuds/Mya_Stone
Summary: Meddling in the affairs of magical folk was always risky, especially when dealing with Rasmodius, who rarely explained his methods. But he offered the Farmer Asa a peak into the magical world, and so the farmer would retrieve items of magical interest. One night, however, Asa learns what the spell is for and quickly reconsiders his involvement.





	The Wrath of a Witch

The stone tower could have been mistaken for an old ruined building, part of a decrepit castle that had been eaten away by time. It seemed to exude fatigue, as though the tower would give way to its fate at any moment. It was a trick, though, a spell cast to confuse outsiders and keep wanders away. Walking up to the old wooden door, Asa gently knocked on its solid surface, which promptly slid open, as though it was never really closed in the first place. 

He walked lightly into the circular tower; smoke and a strong stench of vinegar filled the windowless room. The shrouded form of the wizard moved within that smoke, stoking his large fireplace, creating more of the foul smoke. Eyes watering, Asa called out, “Rasmodius, sir? I think you forgot to open the flue.” He coughed a bit on his words, tempted to retreat to the safety of the outside. 

Loud clapping and a few chanted words came from the wizard’s form. The air cleared slowly, the wizard’s shape taking a more defined appearance as he drew the smoke into a large, clear carafe. Asa wiped the tears from his eyes as Rasmodius approached, his gait relaxed but wearing his usual surly expression. “Separation of sumac oils.” He exclaimed, the smokey bottle disappearing into the folds of his robes. “Fire magic is not for those with weak lungs.” He glared slightly, staring down at Asa, his hat making him appear even taller. “Why have you come?”

“I have the item you asked for.” Asa replied, reaching into his backpack. He held out the small amethyst, the candlelight flickering off its rough surface. “Like you asked, sir. Amethyst fresh from the mountain, rinsed in the stream after harvest.”

“Ah, thank you, young Asa.” Rasmodius’ eyes gleamed from more than just candlelight. He shifted the stone in his hands, examining its surface. “Yes… yes this will do nicely.”

“What’s this experiment for?” Asa asked, his now empty hand stuffed into his pants pocket. “You aren’t experimenting on the Junimo again, are you?”

“No, no. “ Rasmodius said as he turned away, a circle of candles flickering to life at the snap of his cape. “Those creatures are under your care, now, and I will respect that.” He set the stone on his altar, aligning it with the branch of an oak tree. In a swift motion, he cut a lock of his own hair and dropped it into a worn metal bowl. Adding a fine powder to the bowl, he placed it in the coals of his fireplace, and a foul stench of burning hair soon filled the small room. “This spell is for a more personal matter.” He said quietly, turning his head to face Asa. His grim features were starkly highlighted and shadowed by the flickering fire, the wrinkles on his face etched into a melancholy expression. “You mustn’t tell anyone… but I have reason to believe that one of the locals is actually my daughter.”

He levitated the bowl, moving it to his alter. An unrecognized language flowed from his mouth; the very light from the fires seemed to drain from the air and into the runes engraved on the altar. Rasmodius took the ashes and scattered them into the air, electricity jumping from his fingers through the cloud of ash, fixating on the amethyst. A large bolt of lightning leapt from his fingers, before splitting the air with a loud crack, the sound echoing off the stone walls. 

Asa blinked repeatedly, blinded by the lightning, his ears ringing. As the echo faded, the room fell silent, absent of Rasmodius’ chant. Regaining his vision, Asa slowly approached the wizard, whose hands had fallen to his side. Rasmodius’ face was hidden in shadow, his expression indiscernible though his eyes were fixed upon the altar. The amethyst was the only object remaining on the small table, shattered into small pieces. 

“What exactly were you trying to do?” Asa said quietly, though his voice was laced with anger. Even if one of the villagers was his daughter, Rasmodius had no right to cast spells upon the unsuspecting townsfolk.

Rasmodius was silent for too long, but eventually uttered a few words, his voice unwavering. “I was trying to undo the spell. But still her magic eludes me.”

“I thought you were uninterested in experimenting on humans!” Asa’s skin prickled, his hands balled into fists in his pockets. “What spell were you trying to undo?”

“Not one that would cause her harm.” Anger and energy radiated from Asa, which seemed to snap Rasmodius from his contemplation. “The spell I tried to break was not my own. And regardless, it failed.” He clapped his hands and the dust from the air seemed to vanish and light returned to the fire. Gathering the amethyst shards into the metal bowl, he tossed a few between his fingers before holding out the bowl to Asa. “These are useless to me now. You may take them. Magic remains in the shards, but it is harmless and will fade with time.”

Asa took the bowl, emptying the shards into the small bag on his waist. He watched as the wizard approached the fire, stirring it and adding more logs. “Rasmodius.” He said, though he struggled to form a sentence that put his thoughts in order. 

Rasmodius flicked his eyes in Asa’s direction, before slowly standing. Two large armchairs materialized with a flick of his wrist, set invitingly before the fire. “I understand you have questions. Please sit. I will tell you what I can.” 

Asa obeyed, gently removing his bag and setting it near the back of the chair. He breathed slowly, trying to calm his mind enough to form the right questions. “Who was that spell targeting? And what was it going to do?”

Rasmodius had sunk deep into his own armchair, his eyes fixed on the crackling fire, ruminating over his words before finally speaking. “I don’t know who the target was. I believe one of the villagers is my daughter; I feel her magic in the very air, so much like my own that it calls to me. But I am unable to see her, to scry for her. I feel she is there, but, when I reach out to touch her, I grasp empty air.” He blinked and a small tear fell from his eye. “Her presence is obscured from me, due to a spell my ex-wife placed upon her. I have tried to undo this spell for years, and I have failed again.”

“Why would your ex-wife cast such a spell?”

“To punish me, I believe. Her name was Kirsee.” Rasmodius’ voice continued, stable and plain as if he read from a book. “Whereas I specialize in the elemental magics, she had a talent for manipulating people and their memories. When she learned of my daughter, she became enraged, inconsolable.” His face remained emotionless, his voice as plain as if he read from a book. 

“So your daughter…” Asa said, his voice halting as he phrased his thoughts. “Your daughter is not Kirsee’s daughter?”

“No.” Rasmodius bowed his head, the shadows from the flickering flames obscuring his features. “Our magics were incompatible, and a child carrying our combined bloodlines would be recalcitrant to disastrous ends.”

“I’m sorry.” Asa said, quietly. He couldn’t comprehend the loss Rasmodius must feel, to have fatherhood stripped from him in such a fashion; a man, who was so used to being in control, having his child dragged completely out of reach. Though rash, Asa felt his actions were on par with what he would be willing to do himself. “I can bring you another amethyst. Perhaps cleanse it in the ocean under a full moon. And maybe the branch of a mulberry tree would serve you better.”

Rasmodius lifted his bowed head, his face solemn, but the gleam in his eye had returned slightly. “Thank you, young Asa. I am glad you are still willing to help.”

* * *

As Asa laid down his crickety old bed, his thoughts recounted the day. The wizard was mysterious and dangerous as always, the problems from his past now endangering the townsfolk. How many failed spells could he endure before he would take more drastic measures? And who did he believe to be his daughter? Penny and Jas were the only girls who didn’t really know their father. But how old was Rasmodius, anyway? Was he old enough to be a grandfather? Could Jodi or Marnie be his daughter?

Thoughts bounced in his head, though no epiphanies came to him under the cool blanket of night. It seemed as though the truth would remain obscured to him, as well. Sleep soon came to him, and he drifted off into easy slumber.

Asa awoke early, the room still cloaked in the darkness of night. He felt incredibly groggy, his arms and legs too exhausted to move. As he closed his eyes to fall asleep again, he heard thumping on the roof; the noise far too loud to be a cat’s footsteps. Attempting to raise his head, he found himself unable to move at all. As though pinned to the bed from an invisible force, his heartbeat raced as the unknown suffocated him. 

A loud, shrill laugh broke through the silence. “Ah, you are a tough one to wake, though.” The pressure lifted from him, though Asa still found himself immobilized. “You’ve been helping the wizard with his little tasks. I know he told you of me.” Her voice crawled over his skin, cracking and poking at him, high-pitched enough to make his ears ring. “I have no qualms with you, but the truth should be known to those involved. Rasmodius likes to forget the little details when it comes to his own  _ mistakes _ .” With the last word, a crack echoed through the room, as though the roof split in two over his head, though no splinters reached the ground. “Now sleep, young Asa. Sleep, and the dreams will show you the troubled past we share. You will know why I acted as I did.” His eyes closed, Asa felt the creep of sleep edging into the corners of his mind. He resisted, attempting to scream, to move his arms, to open his eyes. He could do nothing as he was dragged into unconsciousness. 

Asa opened his eyes to find himself in the forest of his childhood. The trees were large and healthy, but though the leaves moved in the wind, he felt nothing against his skin. A woman appeared before him, skipping lightly through the forest. Her hair was long and blond as the sun, but though her blue eyes stared right at him, she did not see him. She was familiar, somehow, though Asa could not place her face. His eyes were drawn to her belly, and with a power he knew wasn’t his, he felt new life nestled into the warmth of her womb. Peering closer, he felt a power in that new life, the magic of the elements, and it’s source was obvious: Rasmodius. 

His emotions seemed to cycle from sadness to rage, and in the mental turmoil, the solid form of the forest slipped away. 

Asa opened his eyes, and this time found himself in the wizard’s tower, though the details of the room remained out of focus. “She had the life of the forest within her, Kirsee!” Rasmodius pleaded, his expression wildly shifting from regret to excitement. “Such a connection to this place! She could be the one!”

“You mean she will be the valley’s protector?” The voice came from inside his own head, a woman’s voice: Calmly spoken, but hiding a torrent of emotion. “Then why the child, Rasmodius?”

Rasmodius’ jaw clenched, and he began pacing through the room. “Though she had the connection, she couldn’t feel my presence.” His cape snapped as he sharply turned through the tower. “She had the connection, yes, but she needed my powers, too. Her child could bear both my blood and her connection, and have the strength to protect the valley!” He turned again, fixing his eyes with Asa’s, his expression fierce, but elated. “We could raise it as our own, Kirsee! Our own child, raised to defend the valley!”

It was quiet for too long, and Asa felt his head shake slowly. “No… no Rasmodius.” Came the woman’s voice again. “We can’t.”

“The old man is dying, Kirsee! He cannot pass without an heir, and his daughter has long forgotten the call of the forest. Someone must keep the Shadows within the mountain, or the balance of life will fall apart!” 

“You never think about people, Rasmodius!” Her voice turned shrill, crawling through Asa’s spine. “Do you expect the woman to just hand over her child to us? And if she refuses? Do you intend to kidnap an infant? How far is too far for your schemes, Rasmodius?” Rasmodius was silent again, though his eyes never wavered. “You brought a life into this world to control it, but you cannot control them! If the child loses it’s connection, will you raise a mundane? Could you, even?”

“Your gifts of their minds would help, Kirsee.” His voice pleaded. “We would raise the child together, as our own. As the progeny we could never have.”

“I will not use magic to control a child for your schemes, Rasmodius! You cannot understand the powers you are dealing with. You risk the wrath of a mother with child, and my own wrath as a woman without.” Dark power swirled through the air, and fear filled Rasmodius’ eyes.

“Kirsee, where are you going?” He shouted.

“To undo your mistake.” 

The surroundings vanished as Asa was consumed by the woman’s dark magic. 

Asa opened his eyes, now in an unfamiliar dark room. Smoke and incense filled the room, a sour scent filling his nose. Rocks, feathers and small bones scattered before him on an old oak table, its surface etched with dark, circular runes. A single, bright rock stood out among the rest, a prismatic shard. The witch’s hands grasped for it, the shard vibrating at her touch. Her other hand reached out, and a goblin appeared, delicately placing the edge of a crooked knife into her palm. A quick grasp of her hand was followed by a sharp pain, and blood dripped from her knuckles. A muttering of incantations caused the blood and shard to hover in the air in front of her, the blood surrounding and blocking the shard’s light. 

A flick of her wrist, and the spells target appeared in a small portal: the woman with sun-blond hair, sitting delicately at the water’s edge. She hummed a light tune, one hand fondly at her belly, a loving smile on her face. She knew. 

Anguish erupted from within, torn between what was right and what had to be done. Rasmodius could not be trusted with the child alive; his schemes would haunt him until he acted. If the woman knew what lay in store for her child’s future, would she be grateful once the act was done? 

More incantations, and the dove feathers hovered lightly in the air, but did not touch the blood.  _ How content to live as a dove, wanting for nothing but a strong nest and lively worm. It was a mercy, to be sure.  _ But still the feathers hovered. 

“KIRSEE!” Rasmodius’ voice echoed through the swamp, and the goblins dashed off to hold him at bay. It wouldn’t be long before he got through them, and his wrath would be swift. A decision must be made, now, or the chance would never arise again. But still the feathers hovered. Staring in the calm, content eyes of the mother to be, the witch made her decision. 

The light of the prismatic shard shone through the whole swamp, the blood and feathers dropping to the table below. Incantations filled the air, the light of the shard blinding with its brilliance. Magic weaved through the air, the very life of the valley woven into the spell’s fabric. The incantations became louder, drawing from the salt of the sea, the iron of the soil. The child was gifted the valley’s life from the mother, and gifted magic’s touch from the father. Binding these forces together, the things that brought her life would be her protection.

_ Her.  _ Rasmodius’ child would be a girl, then. 

The power of the prismatic shard spent, it fell to the table, black as coal. The instant the spell completed, Rasmodius charged through, his magic knocking the witch off her feet and binding her to the ground. “What have you done, Kirsee?” His anger fueled his magic, crushing the breath from her with its strength. “What have you done to my child?” Coughing, the magic’s grip pierced her body as pain shot through her limbs. A dark portal appeared below her, as Rasmodius stood over her body, his eyes bloodshot with rage. “Speak! Or I’ll cast you into an abyss you will not return from!”

“I did what had to be done.” The witch rasped, her voice barely escaping from her crushed chest. She stared into his eyes, eyes she once loved, knowing they would never love each other again. “Your daughter will live.” The magic’s grip lessened around her, allowing air into her lungs again.

“Daughter?” Rasmodius whispered, the rage in his eyes cooling. “You spared her?”

His magic around her waned, and the witch rose; though still bound by his power, she hovered slightly in the air, the black portal beneath her still spinning. “I spared her. I spared her a life hunted by you.” She felt her goblins around her, leaping one by one into the abyss below. “For no matter how you search for her, the spells you craft, the sacrifices you make, you will never find her. She will be forever hidden from you, behind a pane of frosted glass, protected by the very magic that gave her life.”

Rasmodius’ eyes shifted between hers, searching for a hint of a lie. “You… Undo this!”

“The only thing undone, is the bond we share.” The witch stopped hovering and fell into Rasmodius’ portal, the abyss consuming her.

Asa opened his eyes. He was in his own bed, the curls of his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat. He sat up, his worn blanket falling from his shoulders. His breath came easy, the gentle chirping of insects through the open window was the only sound in the small room. Long minutes passed, he listened with his ears, and with his magic, finding no trace of the witch.  _ Was it all just a dream? _

He laid his head down, unwilling to close his eyes. “I hope you understand.” She whispered into his ear. He bolted upright, his torso falling heavy against the wall. He saw nothing in the dark, but was soon joined by the wet press of Bunyan’s nose, his tail thumping against the headrest. Bunyan’s calm presence eased his nerves, and Asa soon laid down again, the dog quickly taking up the space at his side. He settled into his pillow and waited for her voice to return. 

“The girl was born to fill the guardian’s role, and role which you have fulfilled quite well, Asa.” The witch’s voice came slowly, a sadness beneath her softened tone. “Keeping her from Rasmodius allowed her to live a happy, comfortable life. I’ve no regrets for the events that transpired.” The slightly exotic way she spoke seemed familiar, somehow. Had he met her before? “Her mother always knew her father was a wizard, but chose not to tell her. I’ve elected to do the same. What good would come from uprooting everything she knows now?” There was silence for a few moments, but Asa still felt her presence; the hairs on his neck still prickling as though disturbed by her breath. “I’ve shown you what I can. What you do with that information is your choice.” Her presence faded, though his skin still crawled with her lingering magic. 

It seemed that things were always going to be more complicated than they first appeared to be. His mind was occupied with the memories Kirsee had shown him, and what to do with the information. Rasmodius was still perplexing as always, his motives always just out of reach. But though he sensed no deceit from the witch, he wasn’t sure her story was the absolute truth, either. 

In the morning he would find some rosemary to dry, to start purging the witch’s lingering magic from the farmhouse. Some clear air and hard work would free his mind from the burdens these occult folk kept placing on him, and maybe then he would have a better understanding of what to do. 

He closed his eyes for the final time that night. Sleep came to him strangely easy, and when he opened his eyes again, it was dawn, and the chickens were hungry. 

  
  


**Epilogue **

* * *

In the spring air, Rasmodius felt a stir of magic and energy which tickled him from his hairline to his toes. He began traveling out of his tower during the day, searching for the source of the odd magics. The townspeople saw him, he knew, but it was such an odd feeling that he had to find the cause. It was months of searching, but finally, one stormy night on the verge of summer, he felt the magic calling him. He followed the call, running through the forest to the edge of town; the call grew louder with every step. He stared into the windows of the medical clinic before roughly opening the door. 

Asa waited for him, just inside the waiting room, a slight grin on his tired face. 

“Sir?” the nurse said, her voice trembling slightly from his presence. “Um, are you hurt, sir?”

Rasmodius didn’t answer, but stared intently at Asa, who’s unusually smug face likely knew where the call came from. “Don’t worry, Maru.” Asa said, gently. “He’s family.” With a slight beckon, Rasmodius followed Asa into the next room. A tired woman with brilliant blue hair lay in the bed, cradling a tiny, mewling infant. “Emily, dear,” Asa called, his voice only barely loud enough to be heard. “I don’t wish to alarm you, but we have a visitor.” The woman looked more confused than frightened, as did the doctor in the room. “Remove your wet cloak, Rasmodius. You’ll get your grandson sick.”

Rasmodius obeyed, and Asa placed the delicate, pale child into his arms, cradling the head just so. The babe was warm, even through the layers of blankets, and his small, intricate eyes evenly held the wizard’s stare. Magics of light and heat swirled around the child, and Rasmodius knew he would one day train this tiny child how to control them. He looked up into Asa’s even but lovingly gaze, and laughed lightly, careful not to disrupt the small, precious babe in his arms. 


End file.
